Friday, March 23, 2012

Me, filtered

I've been censoring myself the past couple days.

Sitting on my hands and biting my tongue and smiling whilst muttering things under my breath.  Y'all have no idea how hard this has been for me, honestly.
I'm not one to normally do this, though it appears that I'm developing the skill set required to do it.

Hell, who am I kidding?

I haven't said what I've wanted to here in a very long time now.

I laughed when another writer/friend of mine lamented the fact that people read her blog.  I, too, have many times toyed with launching an anonymous blog where I could write about all the things really going on, and how I really feel about them.

I have a secret one that contains all that stuff, but I've never opened it up to the public.  Because I won't.

Let's just say that secret blog o'mine, it's had a workout lately.

That, and I probably shouldn't drink publicly for a while, or ever, until all this stuff blows over.

Which it might never do, mostly because people are who they are, and people don't change, and a lot of people piss me off.

So there.

I had the kind of afternoon yesterday that made me wish I still had a punching bag.  I was wishing there was still some snow to shovel or ice to chip off the driveway, but no such luck.  I could have gone out in the yard and dug holes I suppose, but then I would have just had to fight the urge to crawl into one of them and hide from the world.

I need a way to get this aggression and frustration out of my system.

I'm going to wax the floor.

Not because it will stay clean or nice or shiny, not because it will do any good in the long run, but because it's going to keep me occupied for a few hours.

I need be kept busy right about now.

Just trust me on this one.

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